North slid his mug across the counter, staring out the window. Tuck had hung bird feeders, and a cardinal was eating from one, while sparrows flocked around another. A squirrel the size of a small car was lowering itself toward a third, and North fought a smile. Tuck lost his shit about the squirrels, but no matter how many ways Tuck tried to discourage them, they kept coming back. The problem was the design; a birdfeeder had to be suspended somehow—a rope, a pole—and suspending it meant leaving a way for the squirrels to reach the seeds. Even if Tuck invented some sort of helicopter bird feeder, the squirrels would find a way. They’d probably build little winged suits and glide—

He jolted so hard that cold coffee splashed out of the mug.

The dress.

That goddamn flapper dress in Mark Sevcik’s closet.

Like squirrels building their goddamn winged suits so they’d look like birds, blend in with birds, be birds—as far as a casual glance would tell.

North sprinted upstairs, unlocked the gun safe—keyed to his prints only, so that Tuck couldn’t get in, not even when he had those really bad nights—and retrieved the CZ 75B. He slung a holster under his shoulder, stowed the gun, and ran for the Dodge Caravan. He was going to have this whole mess put away before bed.

Chapter 29

Shaw lay in bed, naked under the thin sheets, as the heat seeped away from the spot that Matty had recently vacated. From the bathroom came the whoosh and thump of the shower starting, and then Matty started singing. Shaw smiled into his elbow and stared up at the ceiling, where the late morning sun left a gold band.

The sex had been so much better. Part of it had been the way Matty reacted to Shaw’s aggression. Part of it had been that Shaw was past his first time. Part of it had been the growing familiarity of Matty’s body under Shaw’s hands. But the largest part of it, the mindblowing part of it, had been the fact that Matty didn’t have to hide himself. He told Shaw what he liked. He told Shaw what he wanted. He showed Shaw new things, things that left Shaw gasping and mewling and shredding the sheets.

Even now, hours later, the glow lingered, like a million kinks in Shaw’s body had finally unkinked, like a thousand coils had loosed their potential energy. Sex and then sleep and then sex and then sleep. And now this haze where Shaw drifted, smiling into the crook of his elbow because the grin felt too big, too wonderful for Shaw to be ready to show it to the whole world. He just wanted to be here a while, to listen to Matty singing Paula Abdul in the shower, to watch the sun thicken on the wall.

But even though Matty had managed to fuck most of Shaw’s brains straight out of his head, there was a part that wouldn’t lie down and be quiet. It kept prowling around the wound from last night, sniffing at the damage North had done. It kept thinking no matter how hard Shaw tried to shut it up.